nine2five 19 I, Spy
by Marc Vun Kannon
Summary: Chuck takes the fight to the Ring, in order to save Sarah and Ellie. Rather more carnage and bloodshed than I normally write, but that's war for you.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N **A bit of carnage and bloodshed to get those dominoes tumbling. More like Ring 1 than Ring2, I guess. I hope the pacing works for you.**  
**

* * *

"_I'm going to go kill Agent Walker and be right back."_

"_Code Red One for Tough Guy, sir.__"_

"_Leader, the room is secure."_

"_You look like you've seen a ghost."_

* * *

Leader – Eve – advanced on the three prisoners, smiling as Sarah tried to push herself deeper into the concrete. "You don't understand, do you?"

Sarah wasn't exactly listening, but Ellie and Casey shook their heads, stricken mute at the sight of her stark terror.

Eve stopped smiling, traded the one mask for another. "Good," she said, fastening the clasps Her robes billowed briefly.

A minion raced into the room. "Leader, the base is under attack."

"With no alarms?"

"Not this base, Leader, _the_ base, your base." Justin held out his phone, with all the details.

Except one. "Who is attacking?"

"It appears to be Daniel Shaw, and he appears to be winning."

"Our experiment? His return was predicted, they were supposed to eliminate him."

* * *

"Nothing very alive down that corridor, sir," said Two. "He got a hold of some flechette grenades. You really don't want to go down there."

Chuck really needed to find his inner Carmichael. "That's what, the sixth corridor I don't want to go down?"

"What can I say, he's pretty damn good."

Chuck loaded another cartridge of darts. "He's only one man, Lensman. It won't be all that long before he's flanked."

Two jumped on Chuck, and they went sliding across the floor as bullets chewed the walls above them. "_We're_ his flank, sir." He kicked the table above them, tipping it over as a shield.

Chuck's voice went up an octave. "I just realized that, thank you."

* * *

"I have no answers for you, Leader."

Daniel Shaw had only one hope, one goal, and she'd used that for years to control him until his death was needed. Something had changed, but nothing in her models explained it. "They are to protect the prototype at all costs."

"He's already passed the prototype, Leader. It's unharmed."

Leader considered all the elements, and turned to look at Ellie. "Come for the good doctor again, no doubt. Has duplication been initiated?"

Justin nodded. "I gave that order already."

"You overreach yourself, Agent," said Leader harshly. "But in this case it was the correct action. Put these prisoners in the killbox, and make sure Shaw knows where they are."

"Yes, Leader."

As he left to carry out his instructions, Leader gave her prisoners, especially Sarah, one long last, lingering look…and then turned to go. The sound of the door closing behind her was shockingly final.

Casey grunted his dismay. _Thought sure we were gonna get a monologue out of that one._ Probably some rule in the Evil Overlord handbook against it. _Where's Grimes when you need–?_ Casey almost physically chopped off that thought, shocked at himself.

"Who in the name of God was that?" gasped Ellie.

Casey went back to tugging on his cuffs, trying to see if there was a way he could get his hands free without maiming himself. There were a lot of people he needed to kill down here and it would be a shame to only be able to use one gun. "Sure looks like the head bad guy to me."

"What's a killbox?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. It's a trap, and you're the bait. Shaw comes after you and they kill us all in one hail of bullets."

_Oh God! _ Ellie started pulling on her cuffs too. "What do we do?"

"Nothing," said Sarah in a hollow voice, eyes wide and unfocused. "There's nothing we can do. We can't beat them if they don't stay dead."

* * *

Carina entered into a slaughterhouse. "You guys are good," she said, feeling sick and not meaning a word of it.

"Yeah, we are," said Dimples, "But we didn't do this. Somebody else came through here like a saw blade."

Shaw? The Lensmen? _Please let it not be Chuck._ "Any idea who?"

"We're not detectives, Agent Miller," said Dimples. "What do we got, guys?"

"We got automatic weapons fire over here, sir."

"I have a bunch of tranq cases over here."

Carina turned her head and started walking. "That would be Chuck. What's over there?"

"Security substation, it looks like. Has a self-destruct, but no one disabled it, just a lot of mumbo-jumbo on the screens. And a cell phone, hard-wired in."

_That's definitely Chuck._ "Don't touch it!"

"Wasn't planning to."

"What's it doing?"

"Calling somewhere, transmitting something."

"Oh, that's helpful, Babyface."

* * *

"What _kind_ of data, Mr. Depak?"

Manoosh was already beginning to regret his choice to work for the General directly. "I don't know, ma'am. The server was disconnected from the network by some kind of chemical paste. That's how I found out about it, the smoke detectors went off. I can attach some I/O devices but to do that I'd have to pull it from the rack and I really don't want to disturb the setup–"

"Don't. We've got a cell-phone hardwired to one of our redundant servers, which has been cut off from our network, and it's pumping in data. There's no danger to the system. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"Yes ma'am. This phone is running awfully hot, too. Either the connection will end or the phone will burn out, and then I can tell you what we're getting."

* * *

Daniel Shaw walked in blood, swam in it, very little of it his own.

He'd solved the riddle of his life, found the killer of his wife. When he'd woken up the day before, that was the first knowledge in his mind, before his own name, before he even knew he'd survived. _Who killed my wife?_

The world turned red as it told him the name, blood and pain pouring from him like a damned river, suddenly released. Sarah Walker. Like a video on infinite loop he saw her, walking on a street corner in Paris, passing his beloved Eve. Saw her eyes flash as she spotted her helpless victim, toying with her as she passed by.

Then Eve knelt and…the killer struck, one shot to end two lives. No, four. Sarah Walker would die as they had died, alone, but she would not be the only one.

_Who gave the order?_

Names and places flooded his mind, he drowned in dark knowledge, swept under. So many. Too many. Names swirling in blood, he floundered trying to hold them. Then one came to him and he clung to it for the meaning of his life. He would die before he would let go of his vengeance. No one would stop him, his pain sprayed like bullets and names, targets dropped like dead leaves. So many, but never enough.

_She killed my wife. They gave the order._

* * *

Lack of awesomeness, on an awesome scale. "_That's_ a Ring Base?" And that was apparently Ring trash blowing in the rising Ring wind.

"Yeah, I know," said Morgan, grinning. "Looks like a dump, doesn't it?"

"That's because it _is_ a dump, Morgan," said Devon, coughing in the Ring dust.

"No it's not–"

"Um, Guys?"

"It's a carefully constructed simulacrum–" Genuine artificial Ring smoke.

"Morgan?"

"Designed to deceive all but the most astute observers–"

"Morgan!"

Morgan's hands continued to flap as he tried to remember what he was about to say. "Yeah? What, Alex?"

"That's 457 Darella Street. 459 is that one over there." She gestured with a carefully shielded finger.

Devon looked out of the corner of his eye, then turned back to Alex. "You sure? I like the first dump better."

Alex shook her head. "That's the right dump, Devon."

"How can you tell?"

"The dust," she said, coughing and waving her hands around. "I can see the lasers in the dust, they've got security coverage everywhere."

"Are you all right, Alex?" asked the two men together as she flailed around.

"Oh, I'm fine," she said between coughs. "I just don't want anyone watching to see that I've spotted the sensors. We need to get away from here now."

"Oh, uh, okay," said Morgan, looking around. "Hey, isn't that Casey's car?"

Devon turned to look. "Where?"

"Two blocks down, on the left."

"Even if it isn't, let's go." Alex started walking away, and they followed.

* * *

Casey and Ellie stopped pulling on their restraints.

"What do you mean, they won't stay dead?"

"How do you know she was dead, Sarah?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "Because I killed her, Ellie. Five years ago."

"Maybe you…" Ellie cringed, "Missed?"

Casey grunted a negative. "Walker never misses."

"Her name is Bartowski," snapped Ellie.

Sarah said nothing.

Casey frowned at her, concerned, but you'd never know it. "You must know something about her, _Bartowski_. Spill."

"Her name is Evelyn Shaw," whispered Sarah. "She was my first."

"First what?"

"First kill," said Casey. He wasn't about to mention the circumstances of it, but he knew what they had to be. "And she knew it." He shook his head. "Shaw's wife." _Had to be really dead, then._ Shaw wouldn't have waged his little obsessive campaign against the Ring this long for anything less. "You think they brought her back?"

"Who?" asked Ellie.

"The Ring, or maybe Fulcrum. Like they brought Bryce back after I did for him."

"_You killed Bryce Larkin?_"

Casey looked at her, raised a brow. "Whoops. He stole the…football, I wasn't gonna pin a medal on him." Ellie just stared at him, so he got back to business. "Well?" he said, looking at Sarah. _Come on, Walker, think!_

Sarah didn't pull away from the wall, but she allowed her head to loll his way. "That was five years ago, Casey. Bryce was two, and they brought him back in the ambulance."

"So?" Casey shrugged and pushed forward with a ridiculous argument, simply to keep her talking. "They had crappy technology, that's why she wears the mask."

That got a snort, which is what he wanted. "You've listened in on too many Star Wars nights."

"No, Sarah, I think he may have a point. I noticed when she put on the mask again that her robes…blew out. She may have some king of ventilator under there, something that made a puff of air."

Sarah pulled her head back around. "For what?"

"If you did kill her, and they did bring her back, it's likely she would need some kind of…assistance…to move, or…something. Nerve damage, maybe?"

Now it was Casey's turn to sag against the wall. "Just don't use the 'Z' word, please."

"I know she's alive, John," said Ellie sarcastically. "Just not…very alive."

* * *

"Aah!" shouted Two suddenly, and he fell backwards behind the makeshift shield, now looking more like a screen door, the kind that let moths in. His shoulder was red and getting redder. "Sir, fall back! I'll hold them off…" 'Sir' wasn't listening. He sat crouched behind Two, hands to his head, eyes clenched shut. _Crap. _His protectee had broken at last, and now they were both going to die.

Chuck raised his head, stared at Two with eyes red with broken blood vessels. "Give me that." He took Two's rifle, flipped the setting to semi-automatic, and stood, firing off four quick shots, each one putting a man on the ground. Flipping to full auto, Chuck loosed a burst that made all the others duck, and then he charged, howling.

* * *

Carina heard the yelling and pulled her squad after her with the slipstream. The corridor was full of writhing bodies, but she was only concerned with the one at this end. "Two! Where's Chuck?"

Two looked up, and pointed feebly. "Just missed him."

Dimples listened to the chaos. "He's got guts, I'll give him that."

"What will that do us if he gets himself killed?"

She ran again, not caring if they followed or not. Dimples detailed a couple of men to look after the Lensman and took the rest after her. They rounded the nearest corner…and stopped.

"Good God."

"Holy crap."

"Jesus Christ."

"Would you look at that."

They could barely see Chuck, surrounded by the enemy. He was moving too fast. Punches turned into kicks with lightning precision, and one goon who managed to get his gun up found himself Chuck's unwilling dance partner, shooting his own men before becoming a human shield himself and ultimately a projectile weapon. Only Chuck's face was still, and calm, unchanging even as the last man fell.

"Chuck!" Carina really hoped it _was_ him.

He stopped, turned to her, and grinned. "Carina! Hey!" Pounding footsteps behind him drew his attention to the squad rounding the corner, and he shrieked like a little girl.

"Tough Guy, fall back!" ordered Dimples. "We got this."

Chuck ran to Carina, and she pulled him through the rest of the group as carnage sounded behind them. Together they raced through the nearest door that looked like it would still stop a bullet. Chuck fell across the nearest flat surface, panting for breath.

"Chuck, what were you thinking?"

"Had to…protect…Two."

She grabbed his head, moved it around. "Look at me. God, look at your eyes. Sarah's going to kill us all and then Ellie will bring us back for _her_ turn."

"Flashes…getting worse."

That reminded her, and Carina reached into a long pocket. "Here, your father sent this for you, maybe it'll help."

Chuck took the package and tore the paper off, exposing a box with a pair of sunglasses in it. "Thanks, Dad," he said, and he put them on.

* * *

The earpieces detected to pressure of his head, and the sensors in the frames validated his retinal patterns. Upload one initiated.

* * *

Carina saw Chuck put on the glasses and then shriek in agony. She'd been played! They weren't from his father at all! Like lightning she reached out and smacked the frames from his face, hoping it wasn't already too late.

* * *

The frames were quiescent, programmed to expect sudden loss of contact as the wearer shut his eyes. Upload one was complete.

* * *

Chuck stood still as a statue, his mind rolling backward over every thought he'd ever had, every experience he'd ever known. Sarah and Casey, Bryce and Jill and Bryce again, loss and gain and loss and loss and loss and suddenly he was nine years old, sitting in his father's chair, staring at his father's machines as his eyes hurt.

_Click._

He didn't hear it, he felt it, like the cliff feels the little stone that moves the bigger stones. Neural pathways that had grown up since that time became reactivated, channels for processing volumes of data that no human brain, no mind was ever meant to process. As they went they found and repaired broken sections, restored missing sections, connections that had been blocked.

Chuck remembered everything.

He came to on the floor, with his head in the lap of a beautiful woman. Unfortunately, the wrong beautiful woman. "Carina?"

"Chuckles? Are you…all right?"

Chuck smiled at her. "Better than that," he said in wonder. "My father's machine, they shut it down…"

He stood up, moving easily, and looked around. His smile faded. "Where the hell are we?"

* * *

Daniel Shaw reached the last level, the one with the access to the rear entrance. He hadn't found Walker, so he'd use the tunnel to go to the next base, and the next, until he found her. He activated the scanner, to check that the tunnel beyond was clear.

The screen lit, showing a room, not a tunnel, and three people sitting in the room. A man. Sarah Walker. And…and…

Doctor Eleanor Woodcombe and Sarah Walker, imprisoned together. "Perfect," thought Charles Carmichael, turning around. "Now I know just where she'll be, once I've taken care of Chuck."

* * *

Alex picked the locks on Casey's car, and they got inside. The doors locked.

"Identify yourselves or die," said the car, with Casey's voice.

"Alex McHugh?"

"Devon Woodcombe."

"Morgan Grimes."

The car spoke again. "What's the password, moron?"

"Ronald Reagan? No, Guns and ammo. Wait, I got it! God Bless America."

The doors unlocked.

Devon sagged in his seat. "Dude, you had me worried there."

"What's to worry?" asked Morgan. "It's Casey."

"It's Casey's _car_, Morgan. Now that we're in here, what are we supposed to do with it."

He looked in the mirror. "Hey, we're out of the wind and the smell, aren't we?"

"Fine, but how do we get inside the warehouse?" She pointed down the street.

That made him turn around. "Wait wait wait, who said anything about getting into the warehouse? We're strictly recon."

"And Casey just naturally left his car out here for us to use?"

"I can drive it," said Morgan. "You want I should ram the doors?"

"I want you to try and survive the rescue, Morgan. If the car can talk, what else can it do?"

"I don't know, it's not like there's a manual for–the manual! Check the glove box, maybe there's a gun or a bazooka in there or something."

Devon looked. "Here's a gun, no thank you very much." He held it out with two fingers.

Morgan shrank away from it. "Hey, no way. I'm a lapsed vegetarian."

Alex reached forward. "I'll take it. At least I've had lessons."

"Fine, anything else, Captain?"

Devon pulled out a book. "There's a manual."

The windshield lit, targeting lines and circles. "What'd you do, Devon?"

"I don't know, dude, I just pulled the book out." He bent over to look. "Wait, there's some buttons in the roof, I must have hit one."

"Well, un-hit it!" Morgan reached over and fumbled.

"Morgan, don't–!"

The windshield turned red, as the targeting system locked on to the lasers guarding the warehouse entrance and started beeping. "Uh-oh." Something went _clunk!_ in the car somewhere, and Morgan's feet got hot.

"Dude, what'd you do?"

"I don't know!"

"I do," said Alex, pointing at a line of smoke as the rocket flew away.

Morgan shrank down in the seat. "Oops."

* * *

**A/N2 **I'll be leaving for Chicago on Friday, to stand in the middle of the street all weekend and try to sell books during the Printers Row Lit Fest. I may get some of chapter 2 done over the weekend, but no promises. This suspense/action stuff isn't my strongest suit. Let me know in the comments if you like what I've done.**  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N **Toning things down a bit. Fewer groups, doing more.**  
**

* * *

"_You don't understand, do you?"_

"That's_ a Ring Base?"_

"_Tough Guy, fall back!"_

"_Oops."_

* * *

"Where the hell _are_ we?"

_Did Chuck just say _'hell'_?_ Carina looked up at his tone, then around the rest of the room in which they'd taken refuge. "I don't know," she said. "It had a door with no holes in it, that's what mattered to me at the time.

"It looks like a lab," he said, absently offering her a hand up.

She took it, not that she needed to, just because it was Chuck. "What kind?"

"The kind they didn't want to shoot at."

Oh. _That kind._ "You think they'll blow it?" Just to keep it out of enemy hands, especially since it was already _in _enemy hands. She went to check desks and other repositories for useful and portable intel.

"I'm pretty sure they would if they could, so they can't, since they haven't." He didn't sound so concerned about the possibility of dying, his attention focused on the equipment, the controls, and the data displays. "Where have I seen that before?"

She looked over at him, as he was eyeing some horizontally-mounted clear panels arranged in an arc over the table. Considering the vaguely human shape of the outline on the table, they were meant to be positioned over someone's face. "What's that?"

He twisted himself sideways, and moved his head closer, and suddenly recoiled. "Ah!" He looked over at her sudden movement, waved her down. "I remember that now. The Fulcrum Intersect used panels like these, only I was sitting in front of them. Interesting, no straps, but they still have those spiky eye things. Was their victim expected to just lie there, or did they solve–?"

"The Fulcrum version? The one they made me steal?"

"Exactly," said Chuck, his voice showing none of the recrimination hers did. He had no time or interest, he was tracing cables from the projectors back to – "What's that? All these projectors are getting their feed from that."

She stopped glaring at the panels to follow his pointing finger, kneeling to look where he directed. "It's a box." She pulled it out, careful of all the cables running into it. "It says 'C Filter' on this label." She looked up at him. "What's a C filter?"

"Nothing I know. Ah, there we go!"

She looked at him, to see what he was looking at, but his eyes were fluttering and she knew he wasn't looking at anything she could see. "Chuck? What's going on?"

His face settled, into lines of shock and surprise. "I just flashed."

* * *

"Could use some of Frodo's help right about now," said Casey. Ring agents monitoring their words immediately started cross-referencing known operatives code-named Frodo.

"He's in a lot of pain, Casey. They'd only activate him for special missions." In other words, 'I don't wear them all the time, they make my fingers hurt.'

Casey grunted his understanding.

"Don't you guys have any backup?" asked Ellie.

"I am the backup," snapped Casey. Morgan and especially Alex had never arrived, from the look of it, which was both good news and bad. "No one else knows where we are."

"What about Gandalf?" asked Ellie suddenly.

That name sounded familiar to Casey. Someone in authority. _Beckman? _"Who?"

"You know, the wizard _behind_ Frodo."

Oh. Chuck. "Who was the bad guy in that movie? His name started with 'S'."

_Shaw. _"Sauron? Saruman?"

"Right. Sauron raided Hogwarts and took Gandalf away. We're on our own." Neither Sarah nor Ellie smiled at the slip, but only Ellie looked like she was working at it.

Justin smiled, and gave the order to proceed.

Ring agents took no chances with prisoners simply because they were supposedly cuffed, not since Chuck had disabled two while unconscious. They were just as aware as Casey of the many techniques for slipping free, and entered the room expecting them be free, armed, and ready.

Which they were not.

By the time the minion entered the cell, each prisoner had two guards with weapons aimed as a third released the chains. He affected to be shocked. "What, no anger, no bargaining? I admit despair is a good look for you but I didn't expect it so soon."

Casey couldn't be bothered to sneer at an underling who would never see his anger coming. Sarah just couldn't be bothered to sneer, while Ellie had the usual reaction to having guns aimed at her, which also didn't involve sneering.

"This way folks."

Casey went first, as always, while Ellie took middle position simply because Sarah couldn't walk that fast.

Justin sighed, and pointed at her feet. "Remove those."

"Sir, Leader ordered us to put them on."

"Leader also ordered us to put these prisoners in the Kill Box ASAP. Are you willing to carry her?"

No, he was not willing to carry her. Bad things happened to male agents who came into any sort of contact with female prisoners, Leader was both weird and brutal like that. Instead he knelt and removed the shackles as ordered.

Sarah stepped meekly into place behind Ellie as he backed away safely.

Justin was done even pretending to be polite. "Let's go."

The Ring agents monitoring the cell brought up the hall cameras as the clot of guards and prisoners moved toward the door. Justin and his team were in the hall receiving the three prisoners from the group still in the room when the building shook, and the lights flickered. Several monitors cut out and were a few seconds slow in coming back up from the battery backups.

The hall was littered with guards, none of them upright. Precious seconds were lost attempting to regain the prisoners on any screen. "Sound the alarm," growled the senior man, over the sound of the alarm.

The door crashed inward under the impact of Casey's booted foot, and neither man had time to sound any warnings. Casey went for the nearest, head butting him as he rose from his chair and hitting him hard with his knee as he fell back in. Sarah swirled around Casey, taking out the other guard with her newly-freed feet.

"Ellie?"

"Coming," said the doctor, shouldering her way into the room with Justin's keys in her hand. "Picking pockets while cuffed isn't as easy as they make it look on TV."

"No complaints, doctor. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. That was good work out there." He held out his hands.

"Sarah first, John, she's shorter." Sarah held out her hands, and Ellie fumbled the key into one of the holes. "It was an accident, anyway. I just wanted to keep Justin off you, I didn't mean to knock him out."

"Pansy had a glass jaw," snarled Casey. "He should be glad it was your accident and not mine."

Once freed, Sarah released Casey and then Ellie herself as John collected weapons and restrained the fallen guards.

"How'd you know, Bartowski?"

Sarah accepted a weapon, but checked the load herself. "Low power cameras. The receiver had to be pretty close, and this room is centered geometrically." They went back to the cell, collecting guns and dragging guards into the room, locking them in.

"Now what?" asked Ellie nervously.

"Up," said Casey.

"Down," said Sarah. "Leader had to come from somewhere, and that's where she's probably going."

"Up," Casey said again. "Whatever that was, and I'll lay even odds Grimes had something to do with it, it sounds like they blew a hole in the front door. If Alex is with him…" Casey lifted his gun.

"If she's with him you have to go to her," agreed Sarah. "But I have to get the world's foremost authority on, uh, football out of here, and that back door is our best bet. All the guards will be headed topside, in any case."

Casey smiled.

Sarah smiled back. "Happy hunting."

* * *

Carina stood up. "You just what?"

"Flashed."

_So that's what it looked like._ "How? You're not supposed to be able to do that out of the lab."

Chuck looked around, found the glasses and picked them up. "My father's code must have reactivated everything." He put a hand on the table as he stuck them in his pocket. "A Zamibian scientist, Dr. Kowambe, performed illegal experiments on cell regeneration and passed them to the Ring when he was here as part of a diplomatic delegation last month."

"And you're thinking…?"

Chuck wasn't thinking anything. He saw it all as clearly as the beauty on Carina's face. "Shaw. He fell, but no one found the body. They could've repaired it, and at the same time put the Fulcrum Intersect into him. That's how he knew Sarah killed his wife, that information must have been in their version. I know it's not in ours."

He wasn't supposed to know what was in the Intersect. "Chuck, I have to get you out of here. Until the data is removed you have to be kept safe."

"I have to save Sarah."No whining, no pleading. Just stating a universal truth.

_Of course you do._ "Chuck, we don't even know that Sarah is anywhere near here."

Chuck looked over her shoulder, eyes wide. "Yes we do," he said, nodding at something.

She turned. On the monitor was a scene in a room somewhere, Ellie, Sarah, and Casey sitting, clearly restrained. _Dammit. _Carina folded her arms, tried to go for her tranq gun as casually as possible.

The door crashed open, Showtunes and the rest of the men falling back in good order through it. Carina looked but didn't see–

"Where's Dimples?" asked Chuck.

"That guy got him!"

"What guy?" Captain? Commander? Sole Survivor?

Carmichael shouted in Shaw's voice, "I know you're in there, Bartowski."

"That guy! He came outta nowhere, covered in blood, and we couldn't hit him with a single shot! Dimples went hand-to-hand to buy us time, but this guy moves as fast as you."

"Come out, Bartowski. I can kill this man easily but I'd rather kill you. If I have to fight my way in there every death will be on your head."

Carmichael wouldn't want to kill an innocent man, would he? Chuck could no longer say. He looked to Carina for any suggestions, but she was coming up as empty as he was.

"You gotta save Dimples, Tough Guy, you're the only one who can."

Chuck nodded. "A janitor's gotta do what a janitor's gotta do." He took off his guns and his grenades, anything that might slow him down, and handed them off to Carina.

"Take him down, Chuck. Take him all the way down."

Chuck's brave front faded as he stepped through the doorway. He could kill Carmichael easily, but what of Shaw? How could he condemn two men to the same death for completely opposite crimes? Could he even kill him at all? Carmichael could, but Chuck was not Carmichael, never wanted to be him again, so limited in what he could do or even wanted to do. "You will let him go, Shaw. Now."

"Of course I will, Bartowski, I have no argument with good men." Carmichael pushed Dimples to one side. "Why give you any advantage?" He raised his weapon.

Chuck walked slowly, circling toward his boss as Carmichael circled away. "I already have the advantage, Shaw. There's nothing you can do that I can't do better."

"I am not Shaw. I am Charles Carmichael." He fired.

Chuck evaded the bullet easily. "Please," Chuck sneered, "No one's Charles Carmichael, least of all you. You're a caricature, a joke. You should go away now."

"You'll have to kill me."

"Nah. I've already killed you once. It wasn't hard. I'm surprised Shaw hasn't done it already, you being so protective of Sarah Walker and all." He helped Dimples rise and move out of the way.

Carmichael flinched. "Her name's not Walker, it's–it's–my wife. Carmichael. Sarah Carmichael."

Chuck's brows rose in pretend surprise. "Sarah Walker? _Your_ wife, Shaw? Now why can't I believe that?"

"_My name's not Shaw!"_

"Whatever. But I'll tell you this. If you really were Charles Carmichael, you'd agree with me about one thing."

"What's that, Bartowski?"

Chuck looked past him, at Carina and the others watching by the door. "I have to save Sarah." He turned and ran down the hallway Shaw had come from.

"Chuck!" yelled Carina, and she took a step after him, but Carmichael turned on her, gun raised. Dimples leapt between them.

"Bartowski is mine!" Carmichael backed down the hall, making sure the others didn't move.

Only after the sound of his running feet faded in the distance did Carina push out from behind Dimples. "I'm going after Chuck."

He tried to stop her. "Are you nuts?"

She shrugged him off. "I have to. When Sarah's in danger, Chuck's the most dangerous man in the state." Dimples nodded his understanding as she backed away. "I need you to stay here and clean up this mess, starting with that room."

"How?" he shouted at her back.

"You've got C4, don't you?" Then she was gone.

"C4, she says. No, I don't have any C4," he muttered, "That stuff's dangerous." He turned to his crew. "You guys remember what common household chemicals can be mixed to make high explosives? 'Cause we need a lot of it."

* * *

Ellie was much better suited for creeping and skulking than she was for running flat out. "Remind me why we're doing this again?"

Sarah was annoyingly in-of-breath. "Hey, at least this time we _know_ there's an exit down there. I'd hate to be Leader right about now."

(puff)(puff) "Why?" (puff)(puff)

"An explosion up above and Daniel Shaw down below? She looks like the type that likes to have a fallback position."

_And now she doesn't?_ "So why are we running?"

"Because I really doubt–" (puff)(puff) "–that the emergency exit from this base only leads to another base." (puff)(puff) "There has to be a second exit, and that's where she'd be going." (puff)(puff) "That's one of our two advantages."

"What's the other?"

"Speed. I doubt she can run."

* * *

Leader rose from her chair, cursing her feeble body for not being faster. It forced her to plan ahead but she longed for the days when she could respond quickly to emergencies. _Soon, soon._ With her usual unhurried and unhurriable steps she went to her private elevator.

* * *

Carmichael sped along the tunnel, not as fast as he wanted, keeping an eye out for whatever devilish traps Bartowski might throw in his way. When he came upon the side tunnel he spared it a quick glance to make sure Bartowski wasn't inside, then closed the hatch and shot the controls. No one would be getting the drop on him from there.

* * *

Ellie practically ran into Sarah's back as she drew up short, hissing her frustration. "Somebody's coming. In there, quick." _There_ being another storage room. They stepped inside, Sarah closing the door while Ellie got the lights. The darkness was a relief to Sarah's eyes.

Whoever it was, they were in a hurry. And alone. _Not reinforcements, then._ Even so, Sarah was more than willing to let one enemy agent go by if it meant getting Ellie to safety. Let Casey take care of this one.

The footsteps faded away, and Sarah stepped away from the door. Grasping the knob firmly, she twisted silently and opened it.

The door pushed against her hand as something flew into the room with a clatter, and then the door pulled shut again.

"What the hell–?"

"Ellie!"

The room erupted in bright light as the flashbang went off. Sarah's eyes were doubly stricken, and she could barely hear the sound of the door slamming open, pushing her into Ellie. "Freeze!...Sarah?"

Sarah tried to remove her hands, but her eyes weren't happy even with the normal light spilling into the room behind him. "Chuck, is that you?" she asked, wincing in pain.

"What's the matter, Sarah?" He moved forward, making it worse.

"You just _blinded_ us, Chuck," shouted Ellie. "She has a minor concussion, and she's sensitive to light."

The silhouetted shape turned and closed the door most of the way, cutting off most of the light. Sarah felt Chuck's arms go around her, and she settled gratefully into the shadows he cast there. Warm, firm and gentle, like a bed she wanted to lie in forever, but she couldn't wrap her arms around a bed.

"I'm sorry. If I'd only known it was you–"

"How'd you know we were here at all?" Sarah asked his chest. _Lub. Dub._

"Door shut, lights out. Neither of them standard Ring practice," he said, as if it was obvious, and maybe to him it was. "I fla-uh, remember Shaw's data."

"You what?" Sarah raised her head, blinking. "You can't–"

"Yes I can," he said over her. "Dad fixed the…thing, but now I remember a lot more than I used to."

"How?" asked Ellie.

"These," said Chuck, pulling the glasses from his pocket. The rest was obvious.

Sarah dropped her head to see what he was holding. "Gimme!" She plucked the dark glasses from her husband's grasp.

He chuckled. "Sure, take 'em, I was only going to give them to you anyway."

"Of course you were." Just like him, always had what she needed. She put the glasses on.

The earpieces detected to pressure of her head, but the sensors in the frames had already validated Chuck's retinal patterns and were not programmed to do so a second time. Upload Two initiated.

* * *

**A/N2 **Please don't hate me.**  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N **For those of you who really don't like hanging off of cliffs. And that includes me.

* * *

"_Where the hell _are_ we?"_

"_Happy hunting."_

"_I doubt she can run."_

"_Gimme!" _

* * *

Patience is a virtue, and virtue is its own reward. That's what they told Alex Coburn back when he'd been a choirboy, and he believed them. Their voices echoed in his head as he selected his position, his targets, slowly and carefully, so glad he'd been patient, hadn't broken his thumbs after all.

Of course, a little gunplay, the smell of powder, the knowledge that every shot he fired made his country safer, those were all good as a reward too. He'd learned that after he'd stopped being a choirboy, after he'd even stopped being Alex Coburn. He'd never stopped being a sniper, though.

His perfect storm, job-wise.

A guard's radio crackled to life, their next regular check in. _Perfect. _He fired, once, twice, and the two men guarding whatever room they were guarding fell like living people didn't, and he was quick to take advantage of their inattention to details like that. At the very least, they were two fewer goons. They also had to have more guns and ammo than he did right now, and probably other useful stuff. Whatever was in the room they guarded was just icing on that cake.

Of course the door was locked, but that's what big heavy knives are for. Sarah would have picked it, but what the hell, that was her thing.

Casey had no problem admitting that Sarah was better at the kickass ninja stuff, as long as no one was around to hear him do it. Chuck, more imaginative than either of them, outmaneuvered the enemy on a daily basis, neutralizing their combat advantage by avoiding combat.

The door popped open, and Casey inhaled. _Smells like victory._ Or in this case, gun oil. And where there's gun oil…Casey grabbed a bag and started loading up, humming 'Whistle While You Work." Sometimes, there's no better solution to a problem than metal meeting propulsion, and for that, simple soldiering was ideal.

Advanced soldiering, with a heavy emphasis on guerrilla tactics and some Chuck-style out-of-the-box thinking, was even better, and he took more flash-bangs and remote-detonation grenades than bullets. There was only one of him, after all, and he needed to make that into an advantage, rather than a liability. Alex was upstairs, and he couldn't let a mere several dozen goons get in her way.

* * *

"It's not my fault," whimpered Morgan, staring at the small blue building with the very large hole in it..

Devon was staring too. "You fired it."

"You armed it!"

Alex leaned forward between them. "And I picked the locks on the car doors, so that makes it _our _fault." Boys. "Now come on, their defenses are breached but that's only step one."

Morgan pointed down the street, as if she'd somehow not seen their handiwork. "'Breached'? We just fired a missile at a _house_!"

"It's still standing, isn't it?" She opened her door, and they followed her lead. "Probably as armor-plated as this car. Pop the trunk." He complied, and she took a look. "Here's a vest." She held it out to him.

He pushed it back. "That's for you."

"Morgan–"

"If that thing keeps me safe and you get hurt, Casey'll kill me anyway, so let's just cut to the chase, okay?"

"Fine," she grumbled, shrugging it on over her coat. "He wouldn't kill you."

"You bet he would. He didn't go in there for _my_ sake." He pointed. "What's that?"

She opened the case. "Darts?"

Morgan snapped his fingers. "Animal tranq darts, for the tiger." He looked around. "I didn't tell you about the tiger?"

She gave him a fond, if exasperated, look, and picked up the dart gun. "No. Devon, this is for you."

He pulled his hands back. "Me?"

"It's non-lethal, and you're a doctor." She held it out again, and this time he took it. "I only see a couple of darts here, so be careful who you use it on, preferably someone big. Load it like this." She demonstrated the technique, and turned back to Morgan.

"What do you have for me, Miss Wizard?"

"I…have a shotgun." She held it out.

He took it. "Okay!"

"I don't see any shells."

"Even more okay! It's not like I plan on shooting anybody."

"You can't go into an enemy fortress with an unloaded weapon!"

"You know that and I know that but do _they_ know that?"

"I think they do, Morgan," said Devon.

"Then it'll take 'em by surprise, won't it? Come on, time's a-wastin'." Morgan set off down the street in his best recon style, guaranteed to make everyone look at him. Fortunately there was no one else around.

"Can I shoot _him_?" muttered Devon.

For a second she looked awfully tempted, but…"No. If those were, like, koala darts, I'd say yes, but…" She shrugged, slammed the trunk, and hurried to catch up.

Morgan was waiting for them at the alley mouth. Devon looked into the dimness of the alley, uncertain. "Dude, are you sure this thing is clear?"

Morgan looked insulted. "Of course I'm sure, Devon. You may be Captain Awesome, but I'm Captain Cobra, Force Recon, and I know an empty alley when I see one. Let's go, before the ants in that hill we kicked start to move."

* * *

After they passed, an unnoticed bum crept from an unnoticed box and approached the alley mouth stealthily, gun in hand. He'd found the daughter. Leader would be pleased. He took aim.

A hammer clicked back, behind his head, he didn't know how far, and he slumped. Leader would _not_ be pleased with him.

"What's in the gun?"

_Huh? _"Tranq darts."

"Good, give it here."

"Why should I?"

"Because right now all I can do is kill you."

The bum opened his hand, and the unknown weapon-holder took the gun. "Thanks." He fired twice, and the Ring agent slumped to the ground. The shooter dragged him back to his box and left him there, cuffed and unconscious. Then he lifted a hand to his shoulder, and clicked his radio. "This is Dustbin Lead, my bad guy is down. What's our status, guys?"

* * *

There was a lot more dust in front of the building, but no laser beams showed in it now. Morgan and his team of stalwart heroes plastered themselves against the front, and he slid over to peer carefully around the edges for any hostiles. "All clear," he whispered, and stepped forward.

"Drop it," shouted a big man right inside the hole, as two other guards stepped out from either side of the building.

"Man, you're making me look bad in front of my girl," complained Morgan.

The leader took a step forward as his men tightened the noose. "I don't give a rat's ass, pipsqueak. Now hand over the gun."

Morgan raised his hands, gun loose in them…and threw it at the man's face! The leader pulled his trigger reflexively and shot his own right-hand man in the chest. Devon fired, and raised his gun to aim at the left-hand man. Alex spun and engaged him with some of her best self-defense class training, before finishing him off with a whack to the head with Casey's gun. She turned to see Morgan swing the empty shotgun like a club, giving the leader a headache to match the bloody nose, but Devon looked ready to drop.

He looked at the dart sticking out of his foot. "Not…awesome." Then he dropped.

Morgan prodded him with the stock of his shotgun. "Yeah, he's out." He looked up at Alex. "Now what?"

"Now this." Alex put the gun in her bag and stepped over Devon's prostrate form to plant a huge kiss right on Morgan's lips.

Morgan wasn't a heart surgeon but he was smart enough for _that_.

She pulled back very soon, though, since the doorway to the enemy fortress really isn't the right time or place for that sort of thing. "Your girl, huh?"

He went red all over. "If you'll, um…"

"How about we talk about this later, we've got things to do right now. We have to get Devon and the rest of these guys under cover." The three bad guys they just dragged into the building out of sight, after taking their weapons. Devon, on the other hand–

"Where?" asked Morgan as they carried him in.

She looked around. "There! Control room, probably for the defenses we just took out. No use for it now, and it's as safe and secure as anything we're likely to find."

* * *

In the dimness of the little room, the sudden glow from behind the dark glasses was quite noticeable. Then it faded, with a smell of burning metal and plastic as the chip self-destructed.

"What was that?" asked Sarah, taking off the glasses. She sniffed, and made a face. "What's that smell?"

"The chip self-destructed, but there must have been a second upload on it," said Chuck. "What did you see?"

Ellie's concerns were more immediate, and she elbowed her brother out her turf. "How do you feel, Sarah? Chuck, open the door, I need some light."

He obeyed, of course, and Ellie pulled Sarah out into the hall. "Well, whatever was in that upload, it doesn't seem to have affected your motor abilities. Let me see your eyes."

"Duck," said Sarah suddenly, pushing Ellie away, toward the room. Gun in hand, she crept up the corridor.

"What, Sarah?" asked Chuck softly.

"Shadow," she replied. "Stay with your sister."

He obeyed, of course, retreating to the shelter of the closet.

"Where is she?" asked Ellie.

"She said she saw something, a shadow." He took up a position between her and the door.

Ellie tried to push past. "She just had an upload, Chuck, and you're taking her visual acuity on _faith_?"

"You know, when you it that way it sounds kind of dumb." He heard movement in the hall. "There you see, she's back." He opened the door.

Charles Carmichael smiled, and took aim. "Hello, Bartowskis. Ready to die today?"

Without a second's hesitation Chuck kicked the gun out of his hand, followed by a jab to the throat that made Carmichael reflexively step back. Chuck moved forward, continuing his assault, but Carmichael had caught up, and matched him strike for strike. Or tried to. Ellie watched as her brother seemed to…_flow_ from one move into another with a perfect economy and precision that Carmichael just could not match.

* * *

Ellie heard the sound of running feet, and searched around frantically for Shaw's gun. She'd just picked it up and swung around to the electrical room door when Carina appeared, and her natural dislike of guns reasserted itself.

Carina took one look at the struggling pair and wisely stayed out of it. Instead she went to Ellie, picking up the gun on the way. "Ellie, where are Sarah and Casey?"

Ellie took a second to get her brains pointed in the right direction. "Sarah's, um, chasing a shadow." She pointed. "That way. Casey went up."

"Alone?"

Ellie nodded. "There was an explosion."

Carina smirked. "Before or after he went up?"

"Before. That's how we got free. He went up and Sarah said I had to get out of here."

That made up Carina's mind in a hurry. "She's right." She turned to point back at the room she'd just come out of. "There's a tunnel entrance in there, it'll take you to another base, and our backup. They'll get you out."

"Aren't you coming with me?"

"I can't. I have to go help Casey."

"Please…"

"You're kidding, right? Even General Beckman's afraid of you. You're a Bartowski."

_I'm a Bartowski, dammit…_

Carina smiled at the expression that took over her face, stood up, and left.

_Time to start acting like one._

* * *

Finally Chuck managed a double-strike that left Carmichael wide open, and Chuck kicked him into the wall. Stepping forward he took Carmichael by the throat and lifted him off the ground. Carmichael's struggles proved no more effective than Sarah's had been, under the same conditions, but this time Chuck was not at the mercy of the Intersect.

He let go, and Carmichael fell in a heap at his feet. "You should have killed me, Bartowski," he rasped.

Chuck stood back, flashed his sister a glance as she approached. "I've already killed you once. Never again."

"That's what makes you weak."

"No," said Ellie. "That's what makes him Carmichael."

"_I'm_ Carmichael."

Chuck shook his head. "No, you're not. You're just a shadow of me, copied out of my brain by the Ring, and infused into the body of Daniel Shaw when they brought him back to life."

Ellie stood by his side, but now she crouched to look Carmichael in the face. "They did?"

He knelt too. "Yes. How did you die, Carmichael?"

Carmichael's eyes fluttered. "Death. Strapped to a table, needles in my back."

Chuck nodded, and turned to Ellie. "Leader said I had tamed the Intersect. They must have used their copy as a filter when uploading the Fulcrum Intersect into Shaw. We saw the room where they did it in the other base."

"I'm a shadow."

"Yes, Charles, I'm afraid that's true."

He looked her in the eyes. "Please kill me."

"I'm sorry, Charles, I can't. I don't have a lab, I don't know how."

Chuck gave her a gentle nudge. "Maybe you can get some ideas from the lab in the other base."

Ellie wiped her eyes, cleared her throat. "Right. Carina says there's a tunnel?"

"Uh, yeah." Helping her stand, Chuck led his sister into the electrical room, where nothing looked tunnel-shaped. "Huh. That's annoying, the door must have closed while we were dancing around out there." Ellie noticed his eyes start to flutter. "Oh, wait, there it is."

"Chuck, did you just flash?"

"Yeah, I know, back to the bunker for me." He reached out and pulled what appeared to be an electrical switch, and the whole panel swung out. "There you go."

She grabbed his arm. "You have to come with me."

He removed her hand. "I have to save Sarah."

"Sarah Walker must die."

Chuck turned immediately, but there was no threat, and he backed down. Shaw stood in the doorway, beaten and bloody.

"Sarah Walker killed my wife."

"Her name's not Walker, it's Bartowski," said Ellie automatically.

Shaw's eyes glazed over, and he stopped moving. "Not. Walker. Not. Carmichael. Not. Walker…"

Chuck walked up to him slowly, waved a hand in front of his face, but Shaw took no notice.

"What's the matter?"

"I think you broke him, sis, like that episode of Star Trek, where they hit the robot with an insoluble logic problem?"

Shaw's problem wasn't of the head, but of the heart. "Chuck, he's not a robot, he's suffering!"

"That's too bad. If he was a robot I could have fixed him."

"He doesn't need to be fixed, he needs to be healed." Ellie took a step forward. "Daniel?" She brushed the hair from his face.

Shaw looked at her with Carmichael's eyes, Chuck's eyes. "What do I do, sis? What do I do?"

He was a ghost of Chuck, empty and hopeless. Ellie started to cry, and swept Shaw up in her arms. "I'm so sorry, Daniel. So sorry."

Shaw returned the hug, sagging a little. "So tired. Tell me what to do, sis. So tired."

Ellie was a doctor, but her doctor's strength wasn't enough. Shaw was heavy, a far heavier burden than Chuck. _"You have to take care of him, Eleanor,"_ her father had once said_." You're his big sister." _Chuck was Carmichael and Carmichael was in Shaw. She had to take care of him, help him. Give him purpose. No one should have done to them what the Ring had done to Daniel Shaw, what Eve Shaw had done to her own husband. _It's a useful tool, and a means to power. His return was predicted, they were supposed to eliminate him._

The angrier Ellie got, the stronger Ellie got. Ready.

For once in her life, Ellie Bartowski had a weapon in her hands, and the will to use it. Aim.

"Walker was just a weapon, Daniel. Who used the weapon? Who gave the order?"

Shaw had one name, one thing to cling to in the turmoil. He would die before he would let them take it from him. "Leader," he whispered.

Fire.

* * *

Sarah moved stealthily up the hall, ears on the alert for any sound, not certain her eyes could be trusted. She'd been so sure she'd seen something, but now–she heard a sound, not quite a noise, just a light brushing of cloth over stone.

Leader! They'd beaten her here after all.

Maybe. It could've been a rat.

"Sorry about blocking your escape tunnel. We'll be out of your way shortly." She cocked her head, listening closely for a response, any response. Nothing. There was noise behind her but she tuned that out. Chuck would handle it.

She took another soft step.

"You think you've won, don't you, Sarah?"

Ahead and to the left.

"Not until I have you in custody I won't."

"I'm flattered."

Spin. Pivot. Clear the doorway, and…nothing. More doors, but which one?

"Do you really think that capturing me will accomplish anything?"

Left! She moved over to it as quickly and silently as she could. "We know you overlap your projects, duplicate your facilities, and copy your code. But there's only one of _you_."

"There was almost none of me. Does your loving husband know you're a murderess?"

She was much closer now. One room, one exit. Translucent tarps on the equipment showed no one in hiding. "Assassin. And yes, he does. Does yours?"

"I have no husband anymore, Agent Walker. Death did us part, and all that."

Spin. Pivot. Clear the doorway, and…there she was, punching a code in a pad next to another door, on the far side of a wooden table. Sarah looked underneath and saw nothing. "Step away from the door."

"Or what, Agent Walker? You'll shoot me?" Nonetheless she raised her hands and turned.

Sarah stepped forward. "Come around the table."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Agent Walker." The door behind Sarah slammed. "There's no table." The table vanished. The whole room vanished, revealing just bare glass panels for walls. "The original Fulcrum design was a bit clunky, don't you think? We miniaturized it considerably for our prototype, but, you know…" The screens started to flicker. "Waste not."

* * *

**A/N2 **Still please don't hate me. (I know you're entitled to, I'm just asking you not to.)


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N **Okay, here we go. By far the longest chapter in this series, I had a lot to do, but hopefully it won't feel too cramped or rushed.

* * *

"_It's not my fault."_

"_Your girl, huh?"_

"_I'm a shadow."_

"_Waste not."_

* * *

The first step in any upload is to paralyze the subject's voluntary motor functions, especially the larger muscle groups. The autonomic functions were too delicate, too necessary, and so the upload was multiply redundant, in case a blink should interfere with the uptake of any particular image. Sarah could blink, but she could not be allowed to close her eyes.

Similarly, the subject's posture, maintained by the subtle and constant movement of muscles, had to remain reasonably constant. No amount of multiple redundancy would compensate for a fall. Sarah's body had to keep its balance, but she could not be allowed to, say, cover her face, or fire the gun she held out with such perfect form.

No program is perfect, however, not even the Intersect, and the Fulcrum version of the Intersect even less so. The CIA might think they wanted autonomous agents, but Fulcrum knew it did not, and the Ring agreed with them, so they'd made a virtue of necessity. The power of the Intersect was too much for mere agents to wield, so by the time the program was done with them, they weren't exactly 'agents' any more. Sarah would need to process data, but she could under no circumstances be allowed to think ever again.

* * *

Chuck and Shaw left the electrical room at the same time, but not together. Shaw was a missile, a smart bomb, his target locked in and unchangeable. He would not, he could not stop.

Neither could Chuck. "You go left, I'll go right."

Shaw didn't acknowledge the command, he simply obeyed it, uncaring as to his direction. All of his roads led to Leader, even if some were longer than others.

Chuck was in a bit more of a hurry. Sarah had chased her shadow up this way, and she hadn't come back yet. He had to find her, help her if she wanted his help, support her if she needed his support. He had to be the man she deserved, he simply had to be _there_.

He just had to find her first.

* * *

Carina slammed open the stairwell door at the first sign of trouble. Casey was going up, and Casey was methodical. There would be none behind him. In this case, though, the first sign of trouble did not go 'bang!' at any volume.

"–the _Hell_ did you think you were doing, Grimes?"

Morgan was slow to reply. Casey was busy wrapping bandages around his second hand, the first being already mummified, and from the look on Morgan's face, Carina could tell he wasn't being gentle about it. "I-ah!-thought I was-ah!-helping you out."

"Oh, you helped me out all right, Grimes. Between the crappy aim and your girlish shrieks of pain, you had that guy laughing so hard I had plenty of time to reload and redecorate," snarled Casey, tearing the bandage down the middle. Carina looked down the hall. Grey and red, how tasteful. "But that's not what I'm talking about. I want to know why you decided to bring my daughter into a war zone! She's seeing you, isn't that bad enough?" He tied the bandage together with savage twists.

Morgan's eyes bugged out as he tried not to shriek in front of his girl, and her father.

"Dad!" Alex brought her stolen machine gun into line.

"Please," said Casey, "You're out. Don't bluff with what you ain't–"

BANG! "I reloaded."

Casey grunted, not in the least bothered. "Well, at least you shoot better than him."

"Is that how you hurt yourself, Morgan?" asked Carina.

Morgan opened his mouth but Casey slid his words in edgewise, like a very sharp knife. "Shooting .45s like .38s, with .22 hands."

"Ouch."

"The only guy he hit was the one behind him, when the gun flew out of his grip."

"Knock it off, Casey," said Carina. "I have to admit I'm surprised to see you here, Morgan. How'd you get in?"

Morgan shrugged. "Wasn't easy."

Casey made a strangled sound. "Fired my missile, and blew my entire game plan all to hell, too. Here I had every guard with his back to me, and these two pull the whole kit and caboodle right around."

No way Carina would accept _that_ at face value. "So now you have to kill the lot of them face to face instead of behind their backs, and you're objecting?"

"Hey, I'm as game for a suicidal last stand as much as anybody, but I want _her_ to have a life!"

"It's a bit late in the game to start making _me_ do what _you_ want, dad."

"Whoa, whoa, time out," said Carina. "Family therapy time later. Now, kill the bad guys. You, come with me." She grabbed Alex by the elbow and towed her off. She got about ten feet.

"Carina!"

"Miller!"

Both women turned and looked back.

"You take care of her or I'll kick your ass!" said the two men together. Then they looked at each other, shocked.

Alex smiled, touched.

Carina smiled, amused. "Duly noted."

Morgan watched them go, Casey didn't. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, shoving gear into his bag. "Here, Grimes. Since you can't shoot a gun you'll have to hold them so I can. Try not to screw it up."

"I've been left holding the bag plenty of times, Casey," said Morgan confidently. "I got this." He stared at the bag, trying to figure out how to get the strap over his shoulders with two dislocated thumbs.

_Now_ Casey was scared.

* * *

_Recon! I need recon!_ Chuck barely stopped as the flash swept over him, but when his vision cleared, the hall looked different. Now he saw, he noticed, the traces of dust on the floor, the slight smudge on the wall, signs of movement from two different people the same height, but he somehow doubted that the shadow wore heels. He knew Sarah wasn't wearing a bathrobe, and if she had been, it would have barely covered her bathrobe-y parts, not swept the floor!

There! They went in there! No people, but two doors. One door, the left one. He didn't know how he knew, but the Intersect knew, and Chuck Bartowski was the Intersect.

The next room had a glass wall, and flickering images, bathed in red light. Chuck recoiled automatically, but the images weren't affecting him. The wall was glazed or something, blocking the critical frequencies so the lab techs wouldn't have to wear glasses all the time. The Ring had learned from Fulcrum's mistake.

Sarah! In the room, eyes wide, unmoving. He ran to the door, but it wouldn't open. He ran to the other side of the room, trying to get into her field of view. "Sarah!" He pounded on the wall, but it hurt his hand, making that dull thump that meant it was probably soundproof as well. He looked around frantically for something to break it down with.

* * *

"Interesting," said Leader, noticing the movement. "Charles Carmichael appears to have survived after all. You'll have to tell me how that happened, Sarah, after you've killed him for me, of course. I'm told you are still in there, somewhere. You have to be for the program to work." Leader stared at the face, the profile she'd seen only once before, five years ago. Five long years. The bile of it spilled out, as the spider watched the web wrap around her prey. "You'll be aware, at least, as you kill all your friends, even if you can't stop it. I wish I could make that pain last as long as mine, but unfortunately that's not part of the plan. I have to kill you eventually, so I can get out of this body."

The lights flickered out.

Leader waited, but Sarah only stood there, gun aimed at the spot where she had been. "Well, that's already a vast improvement. Drop the gun, slave."

Sarah dropped the gun. "Yes, Leader."

"Excellent. Take two steps backwards, slave, and stand at attention."

"Yes, Leader," said Sarah, as she complied.

Leader stepped forward and picked up the gun. "You won't need this for a while. I want to see a demonstration of your physical prowess, soon to be _my_ physical prowess." Leader backed to the panel, tapped a control, and the door by Chuck opened.

"Sarah!" he yelled, rushing through.

"Kill him, slave," said Leader. "Kill your husband."

"Yes, Leader."

Chuck flashed, just in time to flip away from her vicious kick to his temple. "Sarah! Fight it!" He dodged again. "You're in there, I know you are!" And again. "You have to fight it."

Leader tapped another command, and another wall dropped, cutting Chuck off from half the room, and another, hemming him in further.

"I can't fight you, Sarah," cried Chuck desperately, "I won't."

_That's the idea, Agent Carmichael._

There was a limit to the number of walls Leader could drop, but there was also a limit to Chuck's endurance and flexibility. Sarah caught him around the throat and started squeezing. Leader watched calmly as his struggles weakened, as Sarah pinned her husband to ground, as he stilled and stopped. "Stand and back away, slave."

"Yes, Leader."

Some of the walls went up, but not all. Leader activated a panel, pressed a button. Only two lights glowed on the screen. "Excellent." The last wall rose as she tucked the gun away in her robes. "I'm going to enjoy having your body," said Leader, moving to Sarah as fast as she could. "Maybe I should take it now and kill your friends myself." Something beeped under her robes, and she stopped. "I'm getting excited. That can't be allowed." Her voice flattened, steadied, as she talked herself down. "Your body is a tool, nothing more. It will get me into the Secret Service, and then to the President, and every President after him, no matter who the vermin vote for. The Ring will rule, and no one will ever know."

Sarah aimed a vicious kick to her midsection, much faster than she had used against Chuck. "Finally!"

Leader fell back, unhurt but off-balance. "Stop, slave."

Sarah did not, could not stop. Five years of self-loathing surged up, cloaked now in the shape of truth, _self_-loathing no more. Leader fled to her panel, but Sarah cut her off easily.

Daniel Shaw, five years of obsession and vengeance and longing wasted, his rings close to his heart. The cloak obscured Sarah's target, the suit took the damage and the helmet absorbed the power of the blows, but Sarah was tireless and Leader had nowhere to run.

Chuck falling silent under her hands, just so Leader could see true love die. Red-faced, wild-eyed, shrieking in rage, Sarah had death on her agenda and a target in sight. She pursued Leader, hunted her down, drove her relentlessly, nowhere near as efficiently as she'd defeated Chuck. "Kill you!" she shrieked, lifting her feeble foe off the ground by her neck.

"Unhand me, slave!" Leader grabbed at Sarah's arms, releasing a current of electricity that dropped her attacker to the ground. Leader felt for the gun but couldn't find it, and decided upon the better part of valor. Sarah struggled up to see the door close again, with Leader moving slowly out of the room on the other side, one leg dragging. "No!" She attacked the wall, but it was just as strong on this side, and she had nothing to attack it with. The only things in the room were her and–"Chuck!"

She fell on the floor beside him, touching his face gently. "Chuck, it's all right, you can get up now." She felt for a pulse, but with her own racing she couldn't tell. "Chuck, wake up!" She hadn't choked him so much, surely he'd just been playing along. Surely it was just–_Fakeadeathanol!_ Of course, Leader wouldn't be fooled so easily. She grabbed his hands, turned them over…

No marks. No FRODO.

She touched his cheek, and his head tilted limply to the side. "Chuck?"

* * *

"So, tell me," said Carina, "You and Morgan?"

"Is that _any_ of your business?"

Carina flashed her a smile. "Would it be nearly as much fun if it _was_?"

Alex returned a frown. "You can get your fun somewhere else. Morgan told me about you."

"You don't get to look at me in that tone of voice, missy. You get to be a better girlfriend than me, rub _that_ in my face if you want to." _And I hope you do._ "Morgan got a shot at me, that was his right, but it's not yours. There's only one man in the world I'll take that kind of crap from now." Carina's voice dropped, as she muttered, "I wish he'd get on with it."

"You wish?"

"The suspense is killing me!"

* * *

Casey fired, and the slide locked. He dropped the empty and Morgan handed him another. "How we doing?"

"Could use another resupply, sir."

"I'm working on it."

Morgan heard a footstep. He turned, checking a six that Casey had already checked, that should have been clear, and found himself staring at the operative's shark-like grin. His hands bandaged, he was even less of a threat than before, and the Force Leader took aim at Casey.

Morgan lunged, grabbing Casey's arm and his belt as he flung himself around, the carry-bag adding an extra bit of force to spin. Casey pivoted, his body moving out of the killer's line of fire, and found himself spun 180 degrees about with a target in front of him.

Casey took the grin off his face.

He looked down, saw Morgan trying to get himself off the ground without using his hands. "Good work, Grimes. One for you." He reached down and helped his man to his feet. "Go do your thing."

"Yes sir, thank you sir," said Morgan, a little breathless.

Casey looked back the way they'd been going, saw a toppled body he couldn't remember killing. "What happened to _that_ one?"

Morgan looked up from his looting. "You moved. He didn't."

Casey noted the line of fire Morgan had moved him out of. "Geez, leave some for the rest of us, will you?"

Morgan grinned and saluted, something he could still do with his hands wrapped. "Sir, yes sir!"

* * *

Sarah lay still, holding her dead husband's hand, her head on her dead husband's chest. He looked so peaceful, like he was sleeping. She closed her eyes, no longer fearing that sleep, or any sleep.

_Lub._

She opened her eyes.

_Dub._

She sat up. "Chuck?"

Chuck sat up, gasping for air. "Is that guy paranoid or what?" He looked at her shocked, stunned, tear-streaked but still beautiful face. "I mean seriously, who uses a brainscan?"

"Chuck–?"

"Good thing he didn't know what he was doing, isn't it? _Ellie_ wouldn't have fallen for the old 'vanishing brain wave' ploy–"

She shut him up, giving herself some much-needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

When she finally let him have his lips back again, he found he was flat on his back, staring up at his blonde goddess of a wife. He reached up, brushing a tear from her cheek. "Hi."

She tried to frown. "Chuck, if you ever die on me again, I'll kill you." He burst out laughing. She didn't. "I'm serious, I thought I'd killed you for real, somehow. What did you do?"

He sat up again. "Honestly? I don't know. It's like suddenly I was in a panic room, watching everything on screens." His attention turned inward. "It was familiar though, like I'd been there before, taken refuge there. I knew how to slow my heart, my breathing, too slow, I think." He looked at her again. "I feel very strange."

"After the day you've had, I'm not surprised." She stood up, offered him her hand.

He took it, looking around the room once he was upright. "My day? What about _your_ day? Since when did you become immune to mind-destroying Fulcrum technology?"

"I have no–hey! How did you know I was faking it?"

He tapped his head. "Recon! I'd just flashed on the skill set, and I saw your fingers move as you held the gun. If you'd been really affected you wouldn't have been able to do that."

She held up her hand, flexed her fingers. "I was a little paralyzed," she affirmed. "I could move, I _did_ move, but at the start I couldn't, and I realized what she thought was happening. So I decided to go along with it, see if I could get her talking. Casey says they do that a lot. Thanks for playing along, sorry about strangling you."

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "You can take my breath away anytime."

_Now_ she laughed. "Oh, smooth, Romeo."

Chuck looked stricken. "Oh my god, it really worked! This is horrible!"

"What?"

"The Fulcrum Intersect has neutralized the power of the Bartowski Eyebrow Dance! I'm doomed!"

She smiled, tracing the curve. "It's not the eyebrows, it's the eyes. Word of advice, when romancing a spy, try your advanced door-opening skills, much more attractive."

"My what?"

"Leader locked us in."

It only took him a second to get it. "Oh."

* * *

Leader dropped the robe, covering up the mangled metal joint of her knee. Walker had damaged the suit and many of its mechanisms, leaving her slower and more crippled than ever. Five years of suffering, patience, and revenge, brought to this! How did they manage to confound her plans so thoroughly, so consistently? How?

She was getting excited, angry. That couldn't be allowed. They were trapped in the Intersect room, for a short while. She could use that. She calculated her speed and the distance she had to travel, estimated the time it would take them to win free. She could salvage something from this debacle.

* * *

Daniel Shaw completed his circuit of the level, methodically checking and locking every room. If he'd bothered to think about it, he would have found it odd that he hadn't run into Bartowski yet, but he didn't think about things like that. He didn't notice the traces in the dust, he just entered the room because it was there and the door was open. He checked the right hand room first, simply because he was right-handed, and then moved to the left-hand room. "Bartowski?"

"Shaw!" yelled Chuck, muffled through the thick glass. "Leader got away, but he's damaged, and can't have gone far."

"I have to find him," said Shaw, turning away. "I have to kill him."

Chuck pounded the door. "Shaw!"

Sarah came to her husband's side. "Agent Shaw?"

Shaw stopped, and turned. "Age–Missus–my–" he mumbled, standing frozen, like a robot faced with an insoluble problem.

"Open the door, Agent Shaw," said Sarah gently, and he complied, all his other directives opposing each other. "Do you know where Leader is, where 'he' might be going?" asked Sarah as they left the Fulcrum Intersect behind.

"The self-destruct," he said at once. "This was intended as a trap for me, but your–Agent Carmichael was trapped instead, and he's worth ten of me. The base has been compromised, it's purpose served, and he knows he has a team of enemy operatives inside it."

"Sounds like a no-brainer," said Chuck. "Where is the self-destruct, Agent Shaw?"

"Chuck, you have to get out of here," said Sarah. "You're far too valuable, especially if you're flashing again, and this is much too dangerous for you."

"Age–Missus–my–" Three names, and Shaw couldn't use any of them. "She's right, Agent–Mister Bar–Chuck. We have to get you to the escape tunnel."

"I'm not leaving you alone." Agent Carmichael would never leave his partners like that.

"You're not, Shaw is with me."

"That's–"

"Chuck, we don't have time for a fight we both know I'd win."

Chuck took a deep breath, let it out slowly. He was getting upset, that couldn't be allowed. _Be what she deserves. _He was not Agent Carmichael, and never would be again. "Be safe, wife." He stepped into the electrical room as they walked on.

_Maybe if Eve had been able to step away from _me_ like that…_"You're very fortunate, Mrs. Bartowski."

"I know."

* * *

Carina looked at the little puddle of vomit on the floor. "Really, your first?"

Alex nodded miserably.

"I'm glad you don't like it," said Carina, companionably. "But I'm also glad you can do it when you have to. Here. I thought I'd be using this on blood, but…close enough." She handed a Alex a cloth. "You clean up, while I go get you a souvenir." Her knife made an eager _snick_!

* * *

"Looks clear," said Sarah, wishing she was armed.

"It should be," agreed Shaw. He nodded at the display. "Not much time left. Leader would have overridden the timer to make his escape, if he's as damaged as you–ahh!" A knife struck Shaw in the hand, and he dropped his gun.

"Speaking of damaged…" said Leader, rising from the shadows, radiating scorn. "I'd tell you to put your gun down too, Agent Walker, but I seem to be holding it."

"Agent Walker is dead," said Shaw, pulling the knife out of his flesh as he positioned himself in front of her gun.

"Drop the knife, Daniel, before you cut yourself. You can't even throw with your _good_ hand." Leader fired, hitting him in the thigh, and Daniel fell to his knees.

"Daniel!" Sarah moved forward.

Leader gestured with the gun. "How touching. I'd almost think _she_ was your wife. I'm surprised at you, Daniel, shielding Agent Walker after all she's done."

"Her name…is…Bartowski," Shaw panted through his shock.

"Tell it to the undertaker." Leader sighted in on her next victim. "Goodbye, Sar–"

Shaw flung himself upward on his good leg, no balance, no time. Leader's shot took him in the chest as he flung the knife with deadly , pinpoint accuracy, left-handed.

Leader sagged, the mechanisms of her suit keeping her upright. The helmet wouldn't let her look down at that angle, but her hand came up to touch the hilt. "Daniel…how…?"

They fell to their knees together. "My name is Carmichael," said Shaw. "Charles Carmichael."

That was the last thing Leader heard. Eve Shaw died, at her husband's hand.

The sound of running feet preceded the runner only by microseconds. "I heard a shot!" yelled Chuck.

Shaw pitched forward.

"Daniel!" cried Sarah, rolling him over.

He looked up at her, but he didn't really see her. "Eve? Did I…save…wife?"

"Yes, Daniel," said Sarah, "You saved me."

Daniel Shaw smiled, warm, genuine, loving.

Eternal.

Chuck squeezed her shoulder as he looked down. "Thank you, Agent Shaw."

Sarah stood and faced to her husband, pointing at him with bloody hands. "You're supposed to be in the tunnel!"

"Yeah, well, I suddenly realized I was trying so hard to not be Carmichael I forgot to be me. When have I ever stayed in the car?"

"When there was a self-destruct, you idiot!"

"The only time there was ever a self-destruct it was in the car," said Chuck, moving to the display. "Oh, come on, you're worried about _this_? There's a whole minute left!"

One minute of bomb-defusing activity later…

"See?"

* * *

"See?" said Morgan, holding out his two bandage-wrapped hands. "I told you I'd find it."

Casey turned, and went pale. "Don't move, Grimes. You drop that detonator and every charge in the place will–"

Morgan's hands slipped, batting the detonator against the wall and onto the floor behind a body, where they could easily find it by tracing the high-pitched beeps.

* * *

"What's that sound?" asked Chuck, looking up.

* * *

Casey spat the grit from his mouth. "Is everybody okay, except Grimes?"

"I was just following your plan, Casey."

"My plan was to blow the base from the _out_side, imbecile!"

"Dad!" Alex pulled Carina's cloth from her pocket, and something else fell out with it.

Casey saw the mark on her vest as she wiped her face. "You got hit?"

Carina looked up from where she was checking on Devon. "It's only a flesh wound, thank you very much for asking!"

"You let my daughter get shot?"

"Of course I didn't _let_ her, how do you think I got the flesh wound?"

Casey snarled and stomped off.

Morgan walked over to Carina. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Don't blow it."

Morgan looked up, saw father and daughter off by themselves. "Wish me luck."

Alex followed her father. "I shot him back."

"Good," said Casey, before he realized who he was talking to. "I mean, how are you–?"

"Carina was there." Which pretty much answered that question. "She got me something, she called it a souvenir." She felt around in her pocket. "Where'd it go?"

"Who's Keller?" asked Morgan, and Casey turned at the sound of the name. Grimes held a piece of cloth in his hand.

"What you got there?" Morgan handed it over, and Casey looked at his daughter. "You shot _Keller_?"

"Yeah," said Alex, and Casey smiled. She'd never seen that expression on his face before, and it creeped her out. "What?"

"That's my girl." Casey held out his arms, and Alex stepped awkwardly into his embrace.

* * *

Sarah nestled comfortably into the circle of her husband's arms, the sound of his heartbeat calming her doubts and easing her fears, as always. Time could have stopped there in the escape tunnel, except for the occasional sound of something falling on the other side of the door.

"I'm sorry, Sarah," he said.

"Thank you, Chuck," she said at the same time, and they laughed together. "Who goes first?"

"My track record isn't so stellar with the whole 'going first' thing," said Chuck. "I thought I was being modest, but I wasn't." _I'm listening now, Doc._

"You have nothing to be modest about," said Sarah. "You are that guy, Chuck, even Ellie had to say so. The one who has to apologize is me. I wanted to keep you safe, when putting your safety over that of others is exactly the opposite of who you are. So thank you, for not being what I thought I wanted you to be."

"Um…happy to disappoint? So I guess you won't be sorry to hear that…I don't like Charles Carmichael, I really don't want to be him anymore. He was just my ego, trying to be what I thought you deserved when it wasn't even what you wanted. Do you think you could love a regular guy?"

She took a deep breath. "Absolutely not." She raised her head and kissed him. "You'll never be a regular guy, Chuck Bartowski, but you'll always be my guy."

"Yes," he said automatically, without thought. "Yes I will." Then he tensed. "What do we tell the team, and General Beckman?"

She let go of his body and took his hand. "Let's take a walk. You came up with four different origins for Tough Guy, I'm sure you'll think of something."

* * *

"Good morning, team," said General Beckman, a week later, at their first regular meeting since the collapse of the Ring. "I regret to inform you all that the body of Daniel Shaw, a/k/a Charles Carmichael, has been recovered from the ruined Ring base."

"That's most unfortunate, General," said Casey.

"It is indeed, Colonel. His combination of physical prowess and analytical ability was unparalleled. He will be sorely missed. Fortunately, the information he provided before and during his assault on the Ring base has proven surprisingly accurate. We have moved on all the locations he provided and captured their bases and most of the leadership, mostly intact. It is an incredible legacy. You should all be proud to have played a part in that success. I trust, Colonel, you will extend our gratitude to Mr. Grimes and Miss McHugh."

"Yes, ma'am."

"We entered the Ring Base Agent Shaw neutralized single-handed, but it appears that not all of the Ring operatives were completely disabled. The agents you knew as the Lensmen were both injured, but they were able to confirm that at least one lab of special significance was completely destroyed."

"What about the data we found being sent to you, General?" asked Carina. "Can we reconstruct the plans?"

"I'm afraid not, Agent Miller. The use of cell phones was inspired, but so far we have discovered nothing in those files that explains the room or its purpose. Their aims and especially their techniques remain a mystery. On a happier note…Mr. Bartowski?"

Chuck smiled. "Yes, General?"

"You will be happy to know that Dr. Dreyfus has given you a clean bill of health, clearing the way for your return to the analytical duties for which you are so well suited. Your association with Interiors maintenance has been severed, effective immediately. Given the profound and protective nature of your relationship with Agent Shaw and his partner, the former Mrs. Carmichael, we have decided to formalize your partnership and assign you permanently to her team. Congratulations."

Sarah took Chuck's hand. "Thank you, General, but we have a more…permanent partnership in mind."

"I thought you might. I expect to get an invitation this time. Dismissed."

* * *

**A/N2 **The wedding is next. I'm still in the market for songs to be played. I have songs for Beckman, Ellie, Casey, Sarah, Carina, and Chuck, but my tastes in music are pretty old school. If you can think of a good song for the DJ to play at the reception let me know.


End file.
